Winking Sage Cider
by Albel The Twisted
Summary: SO3Why does Cliff find it so easy to laugh in the face of the universe's angstiest Elicoorian?Spoilers, Cliff x Albel
1. Default Chapter

A/N: The unedited copy of this fic can be found at aff . net under the same title.

Alright. Reviews appreciated, and if anyone has actually -gotten- a CliffxAlbel ending for the game, I'd love to know what happened.

Summary: Starting from the Main Event where Albel is collected from the dungeon to accompany them to the Urza Lava Caves. I want shameless smut, but apparently I have a dire need for it to make sense, so this may take a while. What will Albel be forced to confront at the Caves? Why does Cliff get so annoyed with our favorite bundle of Elicoorian angst? Let's find out today!

Warnings: This chapter's pretty easy on it all. Infatuation more than anything. Fluff, I guess. Angst fluff, yeah.  
Chapter: 1?  
Spoilers: Sort of. This story will revolve around actual events and speech of the game, but will mostly be non-existent PAs that give these characters due credit!  
Pairing: Cliff x Albel (and later I might do a Fayt x Albel one. Yes. In that order.)

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Would have made them the stars if I did. Quotes and characters from the game Star Ocean: Till the End of Time are property of SquareEnix and Tri-Ace (but not respectively).

s - Refer to the bottom Notes

BChapter One: IDamn Gravity/I/B

'Young men of Airyglyph! You kingdom's armed forces need you! Excellent pay. Three square meals. All weapons and armor provided.'

One would think after reading it for the last two hours it would lose its appeal. Truthfully, Cliff continued to stare at it to make sure his vision was in order. A disappointed grimace went to the insipidly sweet contents of his glass. It was common sense that the colder the weather, the stronger the spirits to fend it off, but apparently common sense wasn't all that common.

This also wasn't Klausian ale, a fact he disliked to no end. Given, the cider was tasty and full-bodied - like a certain 'Roger' blonde and he could come back from the dead for a bit of both. Still, he had hoped to get even a half-satisfying buzz to tick off the shorter hours of this planet.

A born-and-bred warrior of Klausia (and handsome to boot as he liked to think) had a higher tolerance to a great number of things and that meant he liked everything strong: his jaw, his fists, his brain - his women.

His drinks.

Stashed away against the back wall of the 'Dragon's Breath' tavern meant the fire wasn't nearby, but neither was the nip of winter that would come skittering in whenever a patron was ready to turn in for the night. Dark azure hues went for the recruitment poster again. It reminded him of the days he had been at home, listening to the Federation preach about how noble it was to serve them - which immediately meant the Klausians weren't listening.

Several of his kind became mercenaries, or neutral scienticians that would assist anyone with the same goal as them - brains for hire. Those were the kind that creeped him out more than anything, knowing if one of them went sour they would team up with anyone that would help them build a protovirus that would turn all the fish in to ginormous dog-eating mudskippers.

At least then he'd have a challenge.

So far their mission tomorrow was only to engage the Marquis and make a bargain with him. That didn't explain why they had to bring along the egomaniacal swordsman.

That's right. He said it. He actually -knew- such a complex word. Under that ruggedly handsome wrangler exterior was a complex man! Not that he liked people knowing.

As he saw it: the more it seemed a person would have to explain, the more they avoided it. Playing dumb had its advantages, and also helped their pubescent leader - both Fayt and Maria now that he thought about it - build confidence in their decisions. He'd gotten tired of taking the lead in politics years ago, once he had experienced how gruesomely boring and tedious they could be. It was easier to ask 'which skull am I cracking?' Since when had threatening a politician been illegal?! People needed to tell him these things instead of arresting him after the fact.

Another chink sounded from Symbol-frozen water before he polished off the glass. Back to the bi-polar weirdo they had picked up that afternoon. Woltar said the young man had committed treason for letting them go at the training facility, and then failing to apprehend them when they raided the copper mine. Actually, it had amused him to no end hearing 'Albel the Twisted' being called "boy" by the octegenariate. Looking back on it, the guy did act like more of a child than Fayt did. Temper tantrums and the fleeting interests of a toddler.

A moody toddler in a skirt. With a metal claw for a limb. On some planets, amputation and branding were a form of punishment for failures, but that didn't seem the case when he was considered one of the three strongest generals in the kingdom. Cliff had already figured the limb as artificial, powered by the planet's superior Symbology.

Still. A skirt? Things didn't add up about him. And dammit, if that bratty creature goaded him he would go inquiring. Albel could get worked up over absolutely nothing from what he had seen. To the point of sociopathic violence if he had obtained such an endearing nickname by even the gorgeous ninja girls of Aquios.

Mmm, ninja girls... Ninja -women-. Ninja Nel, now that he thought about it. And she'd been flattered to be recognized as such! Delightful woman as he saw it, uncorking the cider bottle with a grin.

The thick door of the tavern squeaked open and shut restlessly at these hours when men had wives and bunks to get back to, little else on their hands now that the war was over. So often had the noise been on his ears that he completely disregarded the next patron. Before he knew it, he was enjoying his next serving as weighted feet came up the last few steps.

Cliff choked when he tried to gasp and swallow at the same time, left to cough in to a jadine glove as he watched the pale form in dusty lilac and metal plating make his way for the farther of the tables. Before he could ask what the other was doing here, swatting at booze that wouldn't try on his fitted zip-on armor, he spotted the barrel just larger than the young man's head under his unplated limb.

Turning back over his shoulder with a stir of rat tails, frigid orbs landed on the blond man that could only grumble about a perfectly wasted drink. He supposed it was his own fault, thinking somehow Albel wouldn't show up here. The boy was as cold as the mountains around here, and so in his territory he went undetected. The spectre's touch that could put a person's hairs on end decided to tickle the back of Cliff's neck as he watched the swordsman fall in to his chair all the way on the other side of the platform.

"We didn't bail you out so you could get hammered," he stated pointedly, coughing again when the words had exposed how offset he had become in the last moments.

For a guy that had gotten served a heaping portion of humble pie -and- spend the last few days locked in the same icy dungeons that contained that nightmarish leather-faced fat man, he certainly didn't act any worse for the wear. An inky brow rose in to the thick mat of bangs crowning his features so informally. Metal digits rapped on the top of his melon-barrel as the other set of normal, elegantly slender fingers placed down his mug on the tabletop.

The spectre now couldn't help but drag its nails up the blond's spine when the silken baritone fell from lips so barely twinged in a sadist's amusement. "You're going to stop me?"

For being all talk, he could be scary when he was talking. Or, it had more to do with the fact swirls of chaos sat in muddy vermillion spheres that bore a predatory gleam, the likes of which Cliff no longer saw thanks to the modern marvels of anti-depressants and gene therapy to erase mental instability.

He had never seen a genuinely crazy person before. Much less one that was in such good favor with such a reasonable king.

It was safe for him to say 'screw that' when a mental image of a clawed man fussing with a barrel's naval crossed his mind - only to be savagely corrected when he saw Albel lift the container up in both hands and rip the cork out with his teeth. That answered the question on whether the youth had taken drinking seriously before. The blond fist fighter eased back in his own chair to sip at his own glass, up until he heard a depreciative hnph from a few yards over. Shooting a glare towards the one that had summoned his attention and thusly greeted with the sight of the smaller warrior pouring a thick burgundy froth in to his mug.

"You were sayin' somethin'?" he offered. Albel didn't even bother looking to him until he had the cork safely put away again, righting the melon barrel and then curling digits around the tall wood carving soon to be his drink. When he received no response there was a shake of sun gilt feathers before he tipped his head back to continue on his glass.

"Is it wise for your leader's second-in-command to be getting 'hammered' the night of a mission?"

As Cliff was concerned, this counted as a civil conversation, as the other had gone two breaths without adding in 'worm', 'fool', or 'maggot'. Maybe he had eaten too many bugs as a child?

"Nah. This is kid's stuff. It'd take more than some cider to ruin my technique." Another disappointed look to the bottom of his glass, finding it once more so despairingly empty. Maybe if he thought and glared hard enough...!! ...No dice. Damn. "And Fayt's not my leader, and I'm not his second-in-command," he thought it vital to point out as he freed his own bottle once more for another serving. This guy irked him to no end, if only because he was such a sore loser.

Hearing this over a swig Albel peeked at him from beyond the wide mouth of the mug. It wasn't good for a crazy man to be amused. Even more so when he intended to compete about this little dilemma that had sprung from its safe hole out in to the open for claws (sans plural in this case) to butcher it.

The sickeningly sharp knife made another pass at Cliff's throat. "So then you're the leader? Last I saw, he was the one ordering you not to kill me. Such a fool." Their civil conversation had just ended, Albel's grin pulling wide with a tempting hiss that could only come from Eden's serpent. "Had you not listened, I wouldn't be here laying testament to your inability to take initiative."

So simply, a fist became the throne for his cheek with a roll of his eyes. "Saying you got a death wish?" When he wasn't given an answer, he had to blink his smoky sapphire hues over to the young man that had buried himself in his drink. "Take it easy will ya? I was just kidding. Not much point getting upset over us creamin' you anyway." Oh heaven forbid, was he consoling the bi-polar psycho at the other table? A look to the film building at the bottom of the glass for being empty. Maybe it had been stronger than he'd anticipated, giving it a thoughtful noise before abandoning it on the table. "We aren't even from this planet, so you're just setting your standards too high."

It now occurred to him that Albel wasn't even paying attention, only glaring at him over a fist in his cheek and inky fangs in his face. With his drink, a great deal of the edge had been sanded off, but that didn't make him any less a spitting cobra that Cliff couldn't bring himself to look at. All of the guy's reputation had been obliterated by them, and now if he wanted it back he was having to behave himself. The Klausian couldn't blame him for being upset - but he -could- blame him for going overboard.

"Er ah... Just why -do- you have to come along anyway? That's the only part I can't figure out. That old man didn't seem all too keen on letting you salvage your reputation with this little errand. It seems..."

Floundering for the words, he was rather amazed with what he found, and the fact eyes now had their full attention handed to him. "I dunno, beneath you." Knowing what buttons to push didn't seem very difficult. Exactly how far he would go about getting teased was the hard part. Murder was illegal on most planets, but he was sure the other could find a way around it if he was desperate enough.

And it was impossible to know how desperate the swordsman could get.

What was clear, however, was that the young Elicoorian had it in his head he could so easily stroll out of here after drinking something like that. From what Cliff could tell, he could bench the rat-tailed weirdo twice over with muscle to spare to tame his ego. Not that he would ever try. In any case he knew whatever he had swallowed was potent, and so watching the rustle of scabbard, steel, and odd fabric he made sure the other wouldn't waver.

Not a faltered step all the way to the door, now fully aware of how touchy the ocelot turned neutered housecat could be.

With a huff he rose to his feet and made his way for the other table where the personal container sat all by its lonesome and the mug abundant with company if air counted. Hefting it up he rolled it until the naval glared back at him, in all its dented, teeth-mangled glory. A faint chuckle bubbled out of him as a glove closed around the cork. It squeaked in protest, but he could melt any fine shape to his will with enough coaxing.

"Jeez, he doesn't do anything without being angry about it." Leaning in to sniff at the essence inside, he had to reel his head back and cough to expel the burn riding from his nose to his gut. "Whaoh!!" Eyes still bleary with his initial whiff, he couldn't keep lips from twisting wide.

Okay, so maybe Albel wasn't so bad. He knew a good drink when he had it!! Now he didn't feel so put off with being ignored while the boy had been drinking. Dumping himself back in to his own chair he poured a serving of the foamy broth, a rich maroon that could have contested with the swordsman's eyes were those ever-manic things not tarnished with some unknown element.

And he highly doubted the other had gone to just relieve himself and come back, which meant he was this nameless gal's company for the rest of the evening!!

Hardly an hour later he was resting the pierced belly of the container over the waiting maw of his glass, dribbling out the last few precious drops of what had become his new best friend. When a fluid like this was tempting to knock him in to a solid night's sleep and a painfully inescapable day after, it occurred to his fuzzy, fevered self that Albel had downed his own portion of this.

Cliff had seen hope in his fair share of eyes - for a great different number of reasons - and far be it for him to make assumptions about it, but...

Earlier that day, when they fetched Albel the Twisted from the dungeon...

He looked like Albel the Hopeful. And any man that could drink the likes of this and simply waltz out of here had to have one hell of a chip on his shoulder.

A blink, listening to the last drop sing with rejoining its brethren in the glass.

...Enough that it could take up his whole arm?

Note 1: 'Arbel the Twisted' is the Japanese name, and I thought Wicked sounded far too childish anyhow. Wicked scares little kids like Halloween witches. Twisted implies cannibalism.

Next Time: The mining town of Kirlsa is the home of the Storm Brigade and its captain, the oldest of the three: Woltar. Not only does he hold a past with Nel Zelpher, the prideful errand-girl for Aquios, but also the demented Albel Nox. How could such an honorable man feel indebted to obtain the well being of such a sadistic brat?!

The unedited copy of this fic can be found at aff . net under the same title. 


	2. Chapter 02

A/N I've purposely withheld this chapter in order to collect reviews, research, and make damn sure everything I put in to this story is accurate.

Hey, I like a good read as much as anyone, even if it's my own. Do it right the first time and all that. Besides, how can any of you say you missed me?!

....; Even if the reviews did kind of fluff my ego a bit. Cough Right. My ego. Strokes his Ego...

I've decided this will be a resolution fic. Not for New Year's. No, I mean Albel coming to absolve his problems hopefully in the TLC way we all know we want to see Cliff use on him: dragging him by the rat tails for the bedroom. Or maybe over the shoulder like a fireman? Hm... Ideas for writing, hm hm.... In any case, there is a great deal of Albel's history left in obscurity, but not nearly as much as Cliff's. This will not go on forever, despite what the ? chapter size indicates. I deem a healthy fic as complete in itself by ten chapters - and maybe an entirely separate smutty chapter for fun. Err... fun... right. Cough Anywho. As for the Fayt x Albel idea - I've decided to do it. Just not right now.

Onward.

SUMMARY: After the team acquires Albel in the dungeons of Airyglyph and Woltar condemns --er, briefs the angsty Elicoorian to their plight, it seems they're stuck with him all the way to the Urssa Lava Caves. Curiosity has been known to get people killed, but what about blond Klausian cats? A claw arm, strange uniform, and a butt that won't quit are solid grounds for inquiry.

Warnings: As stated, this will contain major spoilers due to the fact it follows along with actual events of the game. Star Ocean EX is an all-character scenario re-telling of Star Ocean: The Second Story, and I suppose this will be a 'no dragon to lift you to the Lava Caves' scenario. And -several- other things will be taken out-of-line for the sake of helping this story in entirety and make it a story, not a game. Weak of heart or the likes uncommitted to the pairing of Cliff x Albel should leave now. As for Albel addicts: be warned that when I DO write the chapter of how he got to be -- screw it. I'll put it up when I get there.

Excessive use of the word ass. As though anyone minds. Jeez, you act like you've never read a shounen-ai (for now) before.

Spoilers: Yes.

Lemon: Sadly not. But, I am feeling naughty, so maybe some severe teasing is in order.

Chapter: 2/10?

Pairing: eventual Cliff x Albel, and just to be mean, some Albel x Fayt teasing today.

Disclaimer: I don't own it. Would have made them the stars if I did. Quotes, food, all that good stuff and characters from the game Star Ocean: Till the End of Time are property of SquareEnix and Tri-Ace (but not respectively).

s - refer to bottom Notes

&&&&&&&

B Chapter Two: I Blades of Ryusen /I /B 

"Explain to me why we're not in a rush to get to the Marquis and save this world from the Vandeeni?" Maria inquired a tad impatiently as the party made their way down the mountainside. Powder blue mane bounced as she glanced behind herself to check their tracks.

Just down this way and they would be in Kirlsa, but they would be there just after noon. Earth warm enough that the snow flurries melted before they got past everyone's waist and sky a sheet of swirling forebodence made the valley interesting to pass through. It was Maria's second time through there, and she thought it worthy to point out that there must be a great deal of iron in the soil to turn it that rusty color.

Cliff had taken note, but no one other than Nel was able to confer with her about it. Albel was taking the long way to purposely avoid them. It's not like they needed him until they reached the caverns anyway. As far as the blond was concerned it was for the better.

He had enough of a headache as it was without listening to unwanted retorts and the clatter of a gauntlet that reminded him of last night.

"Well," Fayt perked, shooting abyssful emeralds for the young woman he walked beside. "They still think I could blow them out of the sky whenever I please right?"

A drawl from the silently miserable man behind them. "Right. We've got them believing our bluff, so we may as well use it. Besides, we still don't know where we're going. It's not like Albel's very forthcoming with his all-mighty insight." Group silence followed that truth.

Silence was a ninja's best acquaintance, so it was only fitting Nel be the one to shoo the unwanted fellow. "From the references our kingdom has, the Urssa Lava Caves is where Duke Vox and the King of Airyglyph performed their 'Accession of the Flame' ceremony. It's Airyglyph territory." Always trust her to be full of information.

And a curious nineteen-year-old to exploit it. "Accession of the Flame?" Fayt peeped.

Cliff knew eyes like that could kill, even at the boy's tender age. Heartbreak was a horrible thing to die of, and from his own collection of experience girls adored them. Of course, they equally adored the rugged, handsome blond that could sweep them off their feet and take them to dinner. Eyes that green would inspire jealousy in others, and the Klausian wasn't sure just ah...

...whether he preferred seafood or a good ole' stadium hotdog, so to say?

Fayt could very well go either way and be stellar at it as he saw, but he kept that to himself. For the better. The blue-eyed fighter didn't need to get involved with men again - much less a boy half his age. Cliff had an eye for beauty, and knew better when to be selfish and swipe such a gem for himself.

Last time that happened he had ended up having to explain to a Tetrageniot exactly what had gone on at her fiancé's bachelor party. Since then, he'd sworn not to fold when some pretty thing asked to be spanked. Puppy eyes were bad enough with two of them.

Now that his mind had idly strolled on to the topic, he had to roll his gaze around to per chance spot their missing fifth member. Sure, it was amusing to picture Albel writhing and hissing and having to be tied down like some wildcat so one could get that silly skirt off. ...More amusing than pitying the poor girl that could fall for him, and be left skinless on the countryside.

Or maybe just chained up like when they'd found him the other day? He had to wear that burdensome collar for a reason right? ...Okay, maybe it was more than simply amusing, hung-over mind on a tangent befitting the 'blond' myth. Well, Albel was part blond... Maybe they had their own little rumor about the sort on this planet?

"Less than thirty percent?!" Maria shrieked, leaving what little fantasy that had been building in the Klausian's head to shatter and remind him he -had- been drinking last night.

A scratch at his head as boots stopped, noticing the party had done so a few feet ahead of him to share this. Nel shrugged and hands went on to her hips while the children gaped at her. "It's only what I've heard.

"It could just be to boost the intimidation factor to Airyglyph's side."

Left with little else to do, the Quark leader folded her arms over her chest and glared at the soil. "Yeah, but if only three out of ten men - if they're lucky - come out with a dragon, doesn't that condemn a lot of otherwise useful men to their deaths?"

Another shrug from the redhead Cliff had taken to staring at, dangerous dark jade orbs drifting for him briefly. "It's the tradition of the Dragon Knights."

Now it was the boy leader's chance to interrupt, taking a step forward. "What kind of tradition is that?!"

"Theirs," was the only answer she could give, eyes pulling shut regretfully. "What they do in their kingdom is their business isn't it?"

"That's no reason to send men to their deaths!" A stamp of booted heel, as if her protest would somehow change everything.

"Calm down, Maria." It was Cliff's chance to drop in, staring down to Nel more seriously past the pounding in his skull. No wonder Albel was so irritable, if he always drank like that.

"Every one of those guys on a dragon, like Demitrio, fought with their dragon initially?" This boy needed to stop getting so interested in things. At this rate he was going to bust with useless knowledge by the time he was thirty.

"Not in the lava caves, but I can only assume so," she confirmed dismissively, her weight falling in to the hip away from slit fabric. Damn teases, these ninja girls. "But, these men do it of their own will, so how they waste their lives is their business after that. I won't pity them."

Someone was obviously a little cold-hearted Cliff noted, hiking a brow. Then there was a mild shake of his head. "Didn't Albel say he thought he'd never be going back there?"

Maria eyed him harshly. "You were paying that close attention to what he was complaining about?"

"Sort of," he confessed, shrugging it off himself. "That was your first time meeting him. The guy's nuts."

"Even so," came a careful note from blue zebra-print scarf, hands returning to shapely hips. "If he even thinks about betraying our trust..."

He already knew where this was going, a fist slapping in to a gloved palm with a grin. "...it's not like we can't just beat him back in to place right?"

There was an unfitting chuckle from their young leader then, shaking his head and turning back for the path they'd yet to cross again. "Let's just get on to Kirlsa. Albel said he would meet us there." With half of the group not caring for the swordsman, it was no wonder he was avoiding them. Fayt couldn't help but harness a bit of sympathy for the guy. Part of his curriculum had involved psychiatry and sociology, the former a lost art with the Federation stability and the latter crucial for dealing with said Federation.

As far as he saw it, Albel was honorable in his own deranged way. Even if it had caused charges of treason to be brought against him, he hadn't seemed to care. Honorable, but not a leader at all.

He wouldn't take the blame for anyone under him, as was proven at the facility. Instead, he followed his own moral code that somehow didn't have a mention about people dying. What he had done to Nel's companions outside the mine Fayt would never excuse, but neither could he just brush off the disgustingly lonely vibe that made him prickle every time he was around the swordsman. And what had been his deal when Woltar had made the crack about his father? Their partnership as captains didn't seem to be on the most stable foundations.

Not that Albel was stable, mind anyone. As Cliff had so eloquently put it: he was nuts.

As promised - rather strange coming from the likes of Albel as they were concerned - the youth with his gauntlet was waiting there at the entrance to the mining town. Pulling his thin form off the wooden frame of the rock face support, he could only glower to them the same way he always did.

Unless, Cliff pointed out to himself, he was amused with a stomach full of what he couldn't classify as either a whiskey or a wine. Three square meals hm? Why did he not believe that with this boy's size?

"That old man has already set aside the inn for you lot," was his greeting, sounding in his default pissy self. This, of course, put the group on edge. Up until he spun on a heel to turn away. Dramatic as always.

"My reservations are elsewhere," he crooned with a toss of steel fingers, weight shifting. Letting the limb fall to his side he could only smirk past the jagged span of hair now more copper in hue than they had ever seen it, and over the shoulder guard so he could make sure they wouldn't think he was talking to air. Cliff thought it was black, personally. "Be ready for Arias by first light, or I'll leave you to find your own way."

With that said he began to leave. Fayt wanted to follow and interrogate him further, but he only balled fists at his sides. Honestly, was he -trying- to piss off everyone? "What was that about?" he finally grated out to himself, pupils in green depths drawn tight with impending frustration.

Nel for the most part looked amused. "How thoughtful." When she was answered with a group stare, she only stared back knowingly and settled her fists at her hips. "He's giving me a chance to inform the Crimson Blades of our arrival. That will take some time," she decided, lids falling heavy in listing off possible messengers. "Enough time to spend the night."

"I have to admit, that trail takes a lot out of a person, even on the way down." This was Maria's first time on such a wild planet, and for as much as Mirage trained her, changes in climate, elevation, and just plain hiking in improper shoes had worn her weary.

"If he'd just travel with us he wouldn't have to worry about getting shot in the ass by the 'enemy'," was all the Klausian had to say on the matter before he buried his forehead in a palm. "But I'm not gonna go hunting him down. He wants to be like that, let him. Sleep would do us all some good." Especially him, if he wanted to find some hair of the dog that took such a solid chunk out of his ass the night before.

Still not convinced, Fayt stepped up to the conversation. This wasn't 'let's bash Albel Nox' day as he was concerned. "But Arias isn't Airyglyph domain right? Why are we backtracking this far?"

Now it was Cliff's turn to get irritated, not wanting to think too desperately hard when he was so close to a good night's rest. "I doubt it's because he wants to go sightseeing. He seems to know exactly where he's going, and if he doesn't then we'll just beat it out of him right?"

"I guess... But, hey," Fayt cheered halfheartedly, flicking rich sky blue out of his face. "Woltar and the king both trust him, so there has to be a reason for it. I think I'm going to go find out about it. See you guys later?"

There was just a nod out of them; Cliff leading the way for an exhausted Maria, and Nel was already missing.

"Suppose that leaves me all to myself," the boy pouted with hands going to his hips in disbelief. They always split up when they came in to a town, but he wasn't comfortable with the idea that Albel insisted on being away from them when he was supposed to be their guide. Once he was over it he started for the manor of the Storm Brigade leader, Count Woltar.

"Up the stairs, and to the middle room," one of the soldiers informed him once he asked. There was a nod out of him before he numbly handed him a thank you and began to trot his way up the steps.

Fingers came around the handle and he twisted it to get himself ready to enter, but just a crack and he heard a thing that make him freeze.

"You knew my father?"

I Nel? /I Now emerald eyes were starving for details, but he left the duty of uncovering the situation for his ears, crammed against the door jam. Amidst the sounds of training outside, and the bustle of servants downstairs he had very little to discover. Up until he heard their usually sangfroid and level-headed ninja woman snap at the old voice he recognized as the man's he'd come to see.

Eyes pulled wide at what he heard, relieving his weight from the cracked door. ...So that's how it was... The teenager almost tripped over himself when he heard them exchanging farewells. I Oh no! /I What would she think of him if she caught him eavesdropping?!

Yanking himself off the door swiftly, eyes darted for a place to dive himself in to. Why could there be no hiding places on this floor?! Maybe... if he just hid behind the door, she wouldn't see him! Oi, brilliant logic Leingod his inner voice told him. Or was that a Noxian sardonic note? It didn't matter! Boots hurried to get him off the walkway and to the one of the right, cramming himself away just as he saw the redhead leaking out.

Honestly, he would never be able to say he had expected to be grabbed in his escape. Feline reflexes went for what she had sworn was a door shutting, before Nel was confronted with only the emptiness of the upper floor and warily continued downstairs.

As for Fayt, he was stuck with terrified emeralds pulled wide to lock with swirls of ink inside pools of fresh-spilled blood on earth.

"Don't you know it's rude to spy on people? Or maybe fools just don't know what's good for them."

The firm hand smothering his mouth shut, the same that had grabbed about his face from behind, kept him from sputtering his shock. Being face to face with a psychopath was not exactly what he had bore in mind this afternoon.

&&&&&&

Note 1: The Accession of the Flame ceremony can be uncovered as soon as you first meet Albel. In the Dictionary for all those curious, look up: Albel Nox, Duke Vox, Glou Nox, and the Accession of the Flame in Misc info.

Note 2: According to the Dictionary, the success rate of a man in this ceremony is less than 30, and no one has ever walked away from their failure. Anyone who is not considered worthy by the dragon is killed via dragon's flame.

Note 3: This PA is actually able to be uncovered at this point of the game. It's where Nel obtains one of her father's weapons, the Blades of Ryusen, and learns that Woltar was the one to kill her father in his mission to Airyglyph territory some years ago. That old man's just full of secrets isn't he!?

Note 4: Elicoorians, as described by the Dictionary, have eyes that are able to see patterns of energy unlike their human cousins. Nel is a human living on Elicooria, while Albel is Elicoorian - like the queen of Aquor. You can actually see in his official art the rings of black in his eyes.

Note 5: You can find Albel in this room and he'll talk about Woltar tricking him in to going to the caves.

Next Chapter: The road to Arias is a dead one, but that only feeds the humor of the Black Brigade Captain. Why does he find war so amusing? Won't Cliff ever stop teasing him?! And what's this about lemonade?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Right, so I think I've got a base idea of where this is going. Sadly, for all those wishing to see some wonderfully good lemonade, you'll have to go to the 'adult' version of this site. I won't make a mention of the omitted chapter until it comes down to that. Also, as Adray, Peppita, and Rodger are all additional characters, I won't have them as an actual part of the party.

I apologize if I can't grasp the true level of naivete and abandon Fayt holds in the game. He's got too much brass for his own good. And 100x1010 Fayt 1x Crawd. So you know.

SUMMARY: After collecting Albel from the dungeons of Airyglyph he is forced to accompany the party to the Urssa Lava Caves. Now in Kirlsa, why is Albel in the Storm Brigade manor and leading them on an aimless run in to 'enemy' territory? Cliff begins to put together the pieces of a complex rat-tailed puzzle, but can it truly be called affection?

Warnings: ...Meh. Frequent use of the word ass.

Spoilers: Yes.

Lemon: Just a bit too much sugar, but some lemonade all the same. Watered down for character accuracy.

Chapter: 3/10?

Pairing: Cliff x Albel, but for now Albel x Fayt

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Quotes, food, all that good stuff and characters from the game Star Ocean: Till the End of Time are property of SquareEnix and Tri-Ace (but not respectively).

s - refer to bottom Notes

&&&&&&&

B Chapter Three: I Second Opinion /I /B

Judging from where metal razors rested on his gut, Fayt wasn't doubting a move the wrong way would have him leaving in stitches. Wasn't this guy supposed to be in their side!

Albel at last noticed he couldn't get an answer when he was keeping the teen muffled, removing his hand from a trembling mouth and coiling it in grey shoulder instead.

Fumbling with himself for an explaination left the Earthling to remain quiet and keep his eyes elsewhere. "Speak, Liengod," came a low-toned order to his ears that made them heat. Before he knew it he was wanting to crawl under a rock for being caught so witless.

He began to stammer with being put so mentally off-balance. "I didn't mean to. I was coming to see Woltar and --"

"And you thought you would listen in on a matter not your concern in the meantime?" A brow hiked in disbelief, accusing him in a voice that didn't line up with the charges. Then again, the chance to poke at his superior in combat was irresistable and he couldn't help but let a shred of delighted pride fill his tone. "Perhaps you aren't as humble a leader as you make yourself out to be."

It was an unnerving thought, Albel somehow finding his gratification in belittling, demeaning, and controlling people. "I didn't mean to." As if it would hold more ground if he repeated himself enough. Chancing a glance for the swordsman left him feeling even more ashamed. But, then... "So this is where you're staying?"

Not pleased with the change of topic left the other to shove him the non-existant distance in to the wall so he could stride away for the bedroom window. The servant in the room so far had said nothing, and proceeded to do so as she skittered off in to the side room.

"Seeking congratulations for such a mindless task? You can leave now." It wasn't a suggestion.

Albel's back wasn't nearly as expressive as his front, but at least it gave Fayt a chance to study the decoration of his cape's belt. The katana was missing, but he easily discovered it on the undisturbed bed, sitting ominously within reach of a good dive from the taller fighter. Not that he much needed it, with the plates of steel that substituted as his left arm.

"You could have told us where you were going." He didn't want to call the other out for hiding away from them just yet. The man had gone through a rather humbling last few weeks.

Coaled brunet jumped with the pair of tails off the back of his head as he snapped, "But I didn't, fool."

Deep jades scowled at the swordsman that still had an ear in his direction. He wouldn't be so intolerable if he would take off those ending titles. Fingers hanging at his side curled, and before he could put the other in his place the morbidly silken baritone came up.

"I'm done with you. There is no need to fret." The conversation had lost its flare a while ago, and so he was resigning himself once more to privacy. Anti-social much?

"Huh?" _Brilliant, Leingod. _ He was going to need more intelligent answers than this if he was going to survive maintaining this caged animal.

His head shook as his full attention went back for the window, a hand going to his clothed hip. "I won't tell that foolish woman you were spying."

...This was how it was going to be. It was how Albel did things. A notch of realization dropped narrow shoulders as he stared to the ruthless man. Perhaps this was the beginning of a friendship, now that he didn't have a reputation to uphold?

Sheepishly Fayt made a 'thank you' on his lips that didn't gain the air it needed. Noticing the gap in their exchange, Nox looked back over his shoulder, beginning to turn back for him. "Thanks," came the successful second attempt, but lighter boots continued for him. Comprehension was in short supply, retreating steps eventually planting him against what he could achingly distinguish on his spine being half wall and half door.

Feral claret hues didn't drift from him, even in the last inches that seperated mangled midnight russet and strange ochre from domesticated azure. Fayt had never experienced the true intimidation the other held in his slight frame until now. The first time they had crossed he had been naive, didn't know exactly what to do with being full of adrenaline to rescue Nel from a vile second-in-command. Maybe Cliff was right, that he was so sheltered for being raised in the safety of the Sol sector.

"...?" Fidgeting against the obtuse door frame cramming in to his shoulder blade, scraping for every spare millimetre he could between them and keep it there.

"You really must be from another planet," he concluded in a thoughtful murmer, the inches seperating their height felt in all their imposing glory upon the teen. "But on any world, that is a very improper form of gratitude for someone willing to watch your back instead of planting a knife in it."

It was informal he had to admit, ears growing warm with half-warranted humility. The reaction only spurred the maniac onward, emerald hues doing their best to glare at unmoved Elicoorian spirals instead of registering his other senses. "I guess." Uneasy didn't begin to describe it. He could feel his stomach burbling with stress. If he faltered now, though, he had the distinct impression he wouldn't be walking out of here with his spine intact. "But it'll help you believe us right?"

It was pure will that kept his other senses from acknowleding the Black Captain. Like how, despite how frigid Albel was with the entire group, his pale skin was much warmer with less fabric to impede it. Growing up in the cold must trigger a person to be a walking furnace. Or maybe Fayt was only choking on his own anxious blood? He didn't smell copper to indicate a nosebleed, but he could distinguish the aroma that he was learning was distinctly a killer's, if it belonged to Albel. He smelled like a mix between pungent minted vanilla and... something akin to smoldered cedar. No, not wood... Brows knitted with scrounging for a proper word; this was going to bug him for days.

"I said I'm done with you, maggot, or do your ears only sit there and look pretty on that obnoxious face of yours?"

He had to bet an annoyed Albel was easier to fend off than an amused one, swallowing thickly. The fact the boy had held out this far, in the warrior's mind, said something to what potential he had. Perhaps with that much nerve he could get the Marquis to listen to their reckless demands.

At this point though, Fayt was equally flustered for being yanked about on the rickety truce they bore for this mission. His inner mind could swear the other man abused their forced relationship to the fullest on purpose. "I heard you. --" Not even a chance to finish retorting.

"Then you are merely stupid and not listening." That was as much a warning as the human was going to get he realized, once the support of the door abandoned him and sent him tumbling out of the swordsman's quarters.

A sound slam was his recitation of farewell, hands in their blue gloves straining to keep him upright on the bright scarlet rug. _What was **that** about?_ Holy Apris did he need a cold shower...

How humiliating.

&&&&

"Puts the male species to shame I say." Cliff took another apple wine shooter while Nel readied her own small bowl. "He could at least wear some pants. How can you take him seriously?"

Eyes calm as the sunny woods and just as verdent went for him between magenta strands. Cliff had a thing for redheads.

He knew no one in the universe that could resist a good redhead.

"You may not believe it, but I had never seen him before you guys showed up." She took a sip of her own shooter. A blond hand shot out to tip it up the rest of the way with a knuckle leaving the ninja woman to squeak with surprise. Coughing and wiping her chin she glared to him. "What!"

"That's not how you play the game," he chuckled, indicating his own empty disk. It was the smallest thing they had to a 'shot', and that meant it was a sake saucer. "You're supposed to drink all of it, in one gulp."

"This drink isn't meant to be taken like that. It's meant to be savored." The last while had been spent explaining about the game, but she had only now accepted the challenge of drinking him under the table.

Honestly, he should have felt more pity for her than he did. But if he couldn't take advantage of a beautiful - stunningly sloshed - woman, then there was something entirely wrong with him. And if that was the case, he was going to need to develope a lot more reasons to hate certain people.

Judging from how Albel hissed and spat as frequently as a five-week kitten, it wouldn't take too long to sabotauge the Klausian's crush. "Yeah, well... Hey, where did you get this stuff anyway?" A brow hiked to the white saucer, raising it up to lick the last tasty molecules off the drying glass. "Seems too... nice, for a place like this."

Proudly the woman smiled, eyes pulling shut lest she give away her smugness too soon with being read. "I have my ways."

Being blond, and trying so hard to think simple thoughts, he had his foot in his mouth sooner than he expected. "Isn't anything like what Albel was drinking."

"When?" Mature eyes blinked at him in bewilderment. "I didn't know he was old enough to drink."

That got a short laugh out of the Klausian, smiling to the small serving dish before he proposed it to the woman that gingerly filled it again. Almost ritually, he noted. "Yeah. Woltar calling him 'boy' didn't help either. He's not a very good loser is he?"

"That's no reason for him to delay taking us to the Lava Caves. I can only assume he's been there before." Suddenly the conversation had become all business, which she didn't mind at all. But business the likes of the Twisted was not meant to be shared over a drink as sweet as this, deciding to indulge in the atmosphere the likes of a bar usually entailed. "I don't mind him wearing a skirt."

This was the second time someone had deliberately said something to make him choke on a drink in as many days, a fact he wasn't finding very pleasant. Drying his mouth on his knuckles he glowered over to the woman that smiled so coyly. She had won, and knew it.

It wasn't good for an attractive woman to be smug with you. He had a weakness for confidence.

"Well?" Waiting for him to challenge. "I don't. Or were you mistaking the Crimson Blades for a bunch of nuns?" Her cheek settled in a fist, falling in to the topic easily enough with a smile painting her lips.

"Heh, I guess not." But as far as he knew, the ninja wasn't seeing anyone. That meant he had a shot? Tempting. Very tempting. ...But now that the pictures of a rather elegent - though infuriating - young man--boy--were stuck in his aching head. Yeah yeah, he'd sleep. As soon as he finished this...

"Though, technically it's a waist cape," came offhandedly from her, releasing a shrug.

The blond snorted to his saucer, taking his first almost unmeasurable sip. It really was better that way, tasting the diligence and care that had gone in to stewing the healthy fruit. "I don't care what it is. It's not..."

"Manly? That sounds rather oafish." She shrugged then, taking her chance for what Cliff knew was an inescapable insult. "Or maybe you're intimidated by the fact he's prettier than you?"

He gaped. "Not a chance! He may be pretty, but I don't see what made you fear him so much!" After a thoughtful toss of thick fingers in gilt strands he was smirking. The guy was creepy, hands down. That didn't mean the whole continent should feel puny at hearing his name. There was a lot in the galaxy he could stand, but instilling tyrranic fear in to good people wasn't on his list. Tyrranic fear in a skirt wasn't any better.

Thinking on that, she picked her words carefully. "...He's the son of Glou Nox. He was, like Count Woltar, a very strong and capable man. Noble, loyal..." Eyes shined with memory, closing them before Cliff could empass his sympathies. "It was a shame he was our enemy. Even my father gave him very serious regard."

"Well if he was such a great guy, why is his son such a..." What was the word... "...spoiled sport? I seriously thought he killed himself ever since we pounded him outside the mines." ...With eyes shut, his own speech delivered a potent series of snapshots he hadn't needed. If this kept up he wouldn't sleep nomatter how badly he wanted to.

From what he had seen of the wild swordsman, between his drinking, fighting - and terrorizing the axed rats of the countryside, he had made it key on his list of knowings that Albel never did anything soft. By all means, a warrior like Cliff preferred his play soft for all the hard work he did - but... The Elicoorian, in himself, looked terribly delicate.

Unstable was more the word. What he lacked in size, again like any cat, he made up for in sheer ferocity. In his own species, the blond had never seen a more venomous youth. He always seemed ready to break, and seeing him fettered in the Airyglyph dungeons the other day didn't help. Absolutely, Albel was more trouble than he was worth.

That didn't change the fact he was still having wonderful flashes of a figure in weary violet. ...Well, considerably less than that, but vital details were still missing. For now.

"...said that he killed his father," was all Cliff heard when azure orbs flew open.

"He what!"

It didn't sound that horribly special coming out of her. But the idea the scrawny likes of Albel could lay waste to a man that important in Airyglyph and not regret it...?

"Glou Nox was the leader of the Dragon Brigade up until he was murdered. After that, Duke Vox took command of the division." Maybe that's why that war monger had spared Albel for so long. He -owed- him one?

Cliff could only sit there and gawk at her, the saucer perched on his fingers as the woman across from him dwelled in her own silence. She could never imagine what it would be like, casting one's own father in to the next world. How heartless one had to be...

"...You agreed he was pretty." Masters of stealth and secrets always had their ways of hanging a person with their own words.

Were Cliff as dumb as he pretended to be, his cover in their... spirited state would have been less convincing. "Pretty damn nuts." He was going to need serious revision of his ideals about the disreputed captain apparently. Patricide was preacticly unheard of in the more developed regions of space.

Fingers perched the saucer and extended it to her so she could again refill it. He had a crush on a murderer.

Cliff definately wasn't getting any sleep tonight.

&&&&&&&&

Note 1: This is a PA you can do after you've overheard Nel in the Kirlsa cemetary, but before you go to rescue her. Cliff talks to Fayt in Aiyglyph first about Mirage, and then Fayt's upbringing in the Federation's lies.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I decided to be a snot. And, after a review granted to me by ff . net with some positive criticism, I'm going to take a more anal approach to my writing. Nodnod So, if you guys still run in to pieces that are horrificly confusing, be sure to lemme know! 

SUMMARY: After collecting Albel from the dungeons of Airyglyph he is forced to accompany the party to the Urssa Lava Caves. Now in Kirlsa, why is Albel in the Storm Brigade manor and leading them on an aimless run in to 'enemy' territory? Cliff begins to put together the pieces of a complex rat-tailed puzzle, but can it truly be called affection?

Warnings: Swearing! AT LAST! Oh. And angst. FOUL LANGUAGE!

Spoilers: Yes.  
Lemon: Maybe a wet dream this time eh? You can never go wrong with wet dreams.  
Chapter: 4/10?  
Pairing: Cliff x Albel

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Quotes, food, all that good stuff and characters from the game Star Ocean: Till the End of Time are property of SquareEnix and Tri-Ace (but not respectively).

() - refer to bottom Notes

* * *

**_Chapter Four: Primrose Seas and Honey Skies_**

"What the hell are we doing here?" Thick fingers in their leather gloves groaned with stress as he turned angry cobalt hues on their 'guide'.

This little fucker was really pushing it.

Albel could only keep a good thin hand on the cloth of his hip, the other unskirted sliver of flesh jutted for all to see. Maybe if the blond was in a better mood he'd be taking that detail to the nth degree and in to his great database of tidbits. Though, it would have been cut short with the distraction of steel glittering in the afternoon with that dismissing wave of an armored hand.

One young swordsman could only grin to their even younger leader with the velvet laugh from his shackled throat. "Fayt knows what we're here for. Don't you, boy?" Uh oh. He was beginning to.. Could it be! Respect the little 'engineer'!

It would figure the likes of Albel Nox had to have their scrawny asses handed to them before the acknowledged anyone. Somewhere deep down, Cliff was a little... jealous that he hadn't been upgraded from the rank of 'maggot' in those vermillion depths. Arrogant little...

A blue head nodded before the teen was staring up to Cliff, hands going to his own hips in some trademark leader pose. Standing beside a Goliath, it wasn't all that intimidating. If anything, the Klausian was ready to punch the old man that had put all that universe-stopping power away in a stick of a boy. "Peterny's the best place to get our supplies in order."

To finish the idea there was an ego-sated croon from the captain. Oh he loved being right - getting his heel in that older man's face as often as he could. "You didn't honestly think you could take on the Marquis with our current equipment? Airyglyph has the steel, but Aquor has the most dedicated hammers. Or perhaps you learned nothing raiding our mines for your Arrow?"

Honestly the blond was amused. Heh, he still remembered that... At least Cliff wasn't alone for where his mind had skampered off to, even if for entirely different reasons.

Nel made no comment. She hadn't made one the entire trip, half-expecting Albel would take the opportunity for a weapons upgrade. They were going up against a foe they both knew they would have to be at their best for. Taking on the world's most prestigious dragon wasn't a thing one did half-heartedly and half-armed.

The ninja had already made herself scarce, no doubt recruiting the inn for its services again.

Defeated, Cliff could only groan and roll his eyes down to the girl that flicked powdery blue hair off her shoulder. Girls needed to stop being such teases - especially when they didn't know what they were doing. Annoyed at himself for even trying to think such things he let his gaze shift back to the pair of boys.

"Just keep going and make a left. The inn's ri--"

Fayt was cut short when sanguin hues tracked on him until a snort sounded and Albel's boots started down the cobbles. An oversized hand thumped on to Fayt's shoulder then with a light chuckle, and he made damn sure he was loud enough for the slinking captain to hear. "I guess he's not used to courtesy! People usually say thanks for directions!"

Blue fluff sank and Cliff stared down to him a minute in puzzlement. "Don't worry about it, Cliff. I'll bet he's never been here before."

"That's no reason for him to be an ungrateful jackass." Eyes stabbing at his arm made him blink and shift, until he had Maria in his sights. "What?"

With arms folded over her chest it was obvious he'd said something wrong. She was too compassionate as he was concerned. Especially towards all the wrong people. "...You know, it might sound silly..."

"Naw. Nothing ever sounds silly coming out of the leader of Quark." Another jab from her eyes. If he found bruises, he was sueing!

"...Did anyone besides me wonder what he wears under that?"

Cliff didn't wonder.

When there was an Elicoorian heel on your tri-barred neck, there was quite the vantage point.

"I've heard of fruits - but a guy dressing like a giant grape is prolly the same type to get twisted up in panties."

All their business was said and done. Mass was collecting for the evening outside the chapel, old and young alike in all their drab inexpenses flocking through the square.

Klausia was a world raised away from 'gods'; instead their religion revolved around winning. This meant the dojo was his church and fighting was his prayer. In a way it made him grin.

Mistaken for some form of alighted glee by the approaching stick of purple. Cliff didn't even hear him approach until he was rubbed backwards in a skin of sandpaper at the poisoned creamy note burning in to his ears over the bustle of the heart of town.

"You're not going to join the sheep, engineer? Or does Greeton still immerse itself in a god of gears and grease?"

"Go bug someone else huh?" He was so irritated by the fact the hairs on the back of his neck hadn't crisped until the very last second, that he hadn't paid attention to the second question. Thick arms folded tighter across the wide span of his chest with a grunt, depending more on the stone wall for his leaning.

Seriously. This was a holy hour for these people; he didn't need to go mucking that up with climbing out of mental sewers. Azure hues shot to his side where Albel stood, as serene as the fighter had ever seen him. "Why aren't -you- going is a better question."

"I don't pray to any gods," the younger almost snorted, offended that Cliff would even accuse him of it. Then again, he was offended with anything the other man did. Plated shoulders resigned with a steel limb slung on the length of his scabbard appearing on sentry with the inscrutible way he studied people shuffling in to the building.

"Lemme guess, you're in league with the devil?" He couldn't help but smirk at his own cleverness. Especially when he spotted the twitch on the other's lips that hinted his usual disdain.

Albel was getting more hissy by the minute, only throwing kerosene to the fire of the blond's ego that was a bonfire right about now. "It's not as though a maggot such as yourself would understand."

...Dammit. He hated getting in to discussions with people. For some reason the natives of this planet, in their party, were unusually stimulating for conversation.

Just conversation. Cliff hooked one boot over the other, staring ahead before he could memorize the way bleached fangs grasped the other's face. The last thing he needed today was the image of nibbling them away with his own teeth. Ninja girls, ninja girls... Ninja Nel. --Dammit, like that was supposed to help.

There was a stab of gazing much harsher than Maria's and his face soured before glaring back to him. "What? You said I wouldn't understand. I'm not gonna go asking about it if you're going to be such a jerk."

He wanted to ask about it. A fact he was internally kicking himself for. Somehow satisfied, those muddy scarlet eyes peeled away and took in the square fountain. Up until Cliff was shifting in the corner of his vision.

Double dammit. Here he went to go scratch his head and Albel was staring at him again like a feline with a field mouse rustling in the hay. Not that he -needed- the image of a cat-eared Nox flicking his tails around.

...It gave him a new reason to snicker every time this guy's back would be exposed to him. A loud huff to clear his throat, sapphires taking in the fading sky. In the domes it was a completely different place from this. He could smell the flowers up in the hills from here, where everything in the Federation, on the ships. Everything was so...

Synthetic. Even people. Especially people. Raised to already know right and wrong, in sterile environments and sheltered from absolutely everything, it put him off at times to be here. The world was so... quiet, lacking the constant electrical thrum of engines and the whine of stellar frequencies and all the gadgets their exploration had to offer. To come here, where the loudest things were screeching children and all that empty space was filled with crickets and leaves...

"Hnph."

God damn this guy was really asking to get donkey-punched. It sounded so childish, but fucking dammit Albel was acting like such a damn... child! Cliff would -never- be against fighting on his level, and hell if the little bastard didn't have a lot of hair to pull.

...And nails. And that strange alchemic material clinging every wrong way to every fine little sinew and slope of muscle...

_"What?"_ ground the blond with the utmost aggitation as his head fell. Yeah, childish. He needed a nice time-out... In a private corner. Or hey, wash his mouth out; after a cold shower.

In some victory there was a smirk from the man beside him. Ruby orbs glowing from the off light of the encroaching evening stayed on him. "From off this world indeed." Judging from the silence and the dark glare from the corner of blue spheres said he wasn't following. Albel was -happy- to continue, an impish and knowing smirk spreading wide. "You have to be from under a different sky than ours to watch it so fondly."

...Wait for it... Knuckles tensed, hidden away in the folding of strong arms.

Ready to ring his collared chicken neck...

...Maybe yank him back to the inn by its links, if Albel somehow managed to surprise him.

"Or you're seeing it for the first time after wriggling about in the earth so long."

"...That's it."

A defiantly curious stare was on him. Arms fell apart and his weight lifted from the wall, but the swordsman didn't budge from his lounged standing. No fingers went for his sword. No clawed digits lifted. Another barrel to the fire in cloudless orbs that neared his.

At last. He just may have worn the final string holding this man's patience. If he couldn't win by brute force, then by Apris he would have this man and all his loathing. There was something to be said when you were at the top of a man's sources of anger:

You were still on top.

--He should have been anyway. It was hard to say he was dominating the situation when a squawk tore out of him at being grabbed by the back of his fluffy head and -dragged-. Hisses and shocked curses tumbled easily from him, even as he was bent at the waist from the imposing weight on his skull. He couldn't see where they were going. It was either suffer or trip over his own stomping feet at the other man's pace tearing him along down the uneven cobbles.

"I've had enough of this," thundered in the distance of his hearing until it caved in on him and shadows took away the glint of sun on the plates of his boots. Fingers tightened at his twice-wrapped nape and ripped Albel upright, unleashing another feral noise from gnashed teeth.

That feline image of the swordsman wasn't improving with how he growled and spat and lashed narrow crimson shards up to the blond whom only stood there smirking over him. Fettered neck was beginning to kink at the obscene angle his he was forced to look up with. ...Maybe it would be easier if he was on his knees?

Maybe. He was never going to take the chance to find out. "Unhand me worm!"

Cliff didn't look particularly threatened, boredly staring around the district he had yanked the other in to. With everyone at church, or in the tavern nearby... there weren't any witnesses.

Nothing could stop him from just breaking this sick, snarling little bastard in two and leaving him there.

...Except that maybe Airyglyph wouldn't be pleased to find out a Captain had been murdered on newly-truced territory. Okay, so maybe there was something stopping him.

"If you're going to act like such a kid, you got three choices." Let it never be said Cliff was an unfair man.

It wasn't like it was his fault if the native punk didn't want to listen to his way out, too busy with his ears ringing in fury and stinging scalp no doubt.

Let it never be said Cliff was a man that couldn't enjoy dispensing a little justice every now and again.

"I can either wash your mouth out for each of those _charming_ words you sputtered on the way over..."

Albel didn't look like he was about to agree.

"...Learn just why us 'maggots' like eating dirt all day and give you a few fistfuls..."

Albel still didn't look like he was about to agree.

"...Or you can apologize for being such a brat." No doubt the most impossible choice that would be available to the likes of the Elicoorian. Still, if Cliff had to be on trial later for making this guy be the last person to kiss his own twiggy little ass - he was going to make it clear that there had been options.

...Albel hadn't gotten any closer to looking like he was about to agree.

In fact, he looked in a spot of pain from the way his skirt flickered over quaking legs. Yeah, it had to be a bit painful, being bent as he was for Cliff to look down on him as he could. Nomatter what happened, Albel was never going to be able to live down the moment someone was able to sneer down on him.

Or how much he enjoyed resisting someone who thought they'd won. The brunet wasn't the sort to bluff but he was capable of identifying someone else's.

...Cliff gambled, but he didn't bluff. By Tetrageniot gambling rules - you only bet when you know you'll win. Damn, who knew bachleor parties could be so informative?

An aggrivated grunt jumped out of the younger male's throat. He closed his eyes against the invading wet of pain that had blanketed them for the awesome grip in the back of his hair, and the losing battle of keeping the burn in his legs from melting his position.

And even at a time like this, he could afford himself to quirk heated lips in defiance.

Cliff was beginning to think that Albel didn't just enjoy pissing people off.

He thrived in pissing the wrong people off. The wrong people being the type that could turn those steady lips purple with bruises, and stake claim on his neck better than any collar...

...It had been a long time since the Klausian had someone to freely vent his anger on. "What are you laughing about?" Someone that could not only last as a physical punching back, but was impregnable to mental abuse. Hell, the guy looked like he got some sort of unnatural kick out of pain - giving or recieving.

Albel strained a chuckle. "Not from this planet at all... When a child's misbehaved, they're spanked. You said I was being one of those, didn't you?" There was no way he would ever apologize. Or eat dirt. Or suffer a manual abridgement of his verbal dictionary in Apple Cinnamon Edition.

Which left only one option open to him: negotiate.

For a guy that sounded so fucked up most of the time...

...he could make a lot of sense. Cliff suddenly felt that his options had been wholly inadequate. Eating dirt sounded like a bully. And apologizing made it sound like Albel had broken a window.

Spanking sounded...

...really good right about now. So good in fact, the pale Klausian was smirking as wide as his captive.

When fingers tightened in dark and gold mismatched hair to force the younger upright crimson senses reeled. His ears were churning curdled blood that had transferred from aching knees, and then his whirling head was forced forward again.

"Yeah, guess I did, didn't I?" The Elicoorian would never admit when there was a person that could match his own wickedly delighted tone.

His unbalanced and recovering form toppled, steel plates and digits clattering with a yelp when his belly was rammed by something much more solid than himself.

Solid, warm, and wrapped in leather... Albel's vision began to clear and one by one the elaborate details of his position and the savior of his face from stone, just inches away now, became clear. The fact Cliff was sitting back on what had to be a short stack of crates outside an unsuspecting someone's house. The fact two impressively bulky thighs were wide enough to span the whole brunt of the captains torso, leaving his head crammed between his shoulder guards; for extra security to keep his head from lifting, gloved fingers had splayed on the back of it and kept his chin fastened against the outside of dark-jade clad muscle.

It was the fact that he could sense his rump was clear in the air that recovered his need to rebel. "Unhand me you overgrown lech!"

An amused 'oho' was the only response to his growl and the flail of his clawed limb. He hiccup'd in surprise when a leg under his ribs bounced. "Not so fast there! You offered the punishment! You're not going to take it like a man?"

"Not if you're going to punish me like a child!" the smaller roared, throwing his arm again. This time, a not so amused stomp of a leg he was rested on came, steel screeching balefully when the heel came down on his wrist. "Gh...! Let me go!"

"Or you'll what? Lead us to some bottomless pit instead of to the Marquis? Slaughter us all in our sleep?" Albel couldn't see the shake of gilt head above him that followed the unthreatened sigh.

He also couldn't see the hand that planted itself on the slope of his defenseless rear.

Heat bursted in to his face, his ears, down his neck, then disappeared over the span of legs he was stretched across until it flared again in his loins.

"You're good," Cliff offered smugly. "But you're not that good. And you're all talk. That or you're one sick puppy." Though, a Nox spread over his lap and angrily flicking a pair of tails, ears folded back did look so much more appealing. Especially since cats could purr.

"Because I could decide a more appropriate punishment than you, barbarian?"

Hey, he was getting higher on the evolutionary ladder! Barbarians were a subclass of humanoid! Didn't that just make his day. ...Course, it was a little fucked up that Cliff had to be absolutely degrading to this little prick to get any respect out of him.

"No..." Firm, gloved digits closed around the slit of fabric lining the brat's hip, peeling it away to reveal what was no less than snickerworthy. ...Cute, but laughable. Honestly, if Cliff had to pick anything to go and bone...

...It would have to be something that was a little more meat than bone. Here while the other side of the Noxcat was privately seething and an unseen shade of red, a pair of writhing hips supported a band of plum fabric that barely did a job of not riding up a firm alabaster crack between two stubbornly twisting thighs.

Yeah. They were definately panties he'd seen. No mistaking that now. But he had been mistaken on the bones-to-meat ratio.

"Did you know..." he started, fondly curious as azure hues blinked heavily. "...you have a girl's ass?" It was followed by an amazed chuckle, snaring a thick finger in the band running along the outer part of his hip, giving the slightly stretchy fabric a tug.

At least all of the other's fussing came to a dead halt. It wasn't dignified for a Captain of Airyglyph to be taken prisoner, tortured, and degraded - and prove it was a discomfort. That didn't stop Albel from snarling under the mop of his hair, his right hand making a valiant effort to lift the foot ruthlessly keeping his other limb still.

"What of it, mongrel!"

"Oh nothin'," he clarified vageuly, giving a dispassioned shrug. Everything made it sound like he had suddenly lost interest. But seeing was believing.

And anyone that could have seen his face knew he was anything but. "It just makes sense now. D'you go and become a sadistic little shit because you never got past training bras like the one you're wearing?" Another tug of the fabric lining Albel's hip, grining smugly to himself on a whole new level for how the body over his lap twitched and even vibrated with anger.

It was as close to a purr as the likes of Albel was going to get he assumed. "Skirts. Leggings. I>Panties /I>. All makes sense now." Sating his own ego had nothing to do with bashing at the brunet's physique; he could feel the other's masculinity that had been twitching at the outside of his thigh, up until he'd gone furiously still.

This was all about getting even. And he was willing to play dirty until he was satisfied.

"What? No comeback, _Captain_?"

Even the hand that had been vainly working to lift the Klausian's leg had ceased. The only thing that proved the Twisted hadn't died of horror was the fluttering hammer inside a smaller chest beating against the top of his leg.

"You bore me with your empty threats, engineer," droned out from the peroxide-attacked mop, proving once and for all Albel fully understood how to play on both sides of his little game. He wasn't going to play with unneccessary rounds right now. He just... wanted to get this over with, before he soiled himself. After this, the two of them still had to go back to the inn, and he wasn't about to return soggy.

He hadn't made such a bad choice in his victim after all. This man... just might be worth abusing further, if Cliff was going to entertain him so.

There was the realization that Cliff had turned the boy over his knee for more than just an unabashed peek at his panties. This was supposed to be punishment. And no doubt, the blond didn't understand the meaning of 'holding back'. Digits cased in lilac snared about the blond's ankle, holding an anxious breath.

Handsome features soured as he glared down to the awaiting pile. Even Albel didn't have eyes in the back of his head.

That's how Cliff could grin as the initial squeak that popped from the captain easily bled in to a growl for having his underwear slipped down from his ass.

"Last chance. You can still apologize," he purred darkly, leaving the brat on his lap to shiver at the way the baritone rumbled in each one of his ribs.

Strange foreplay, this one had. Not that he hadn't come across a fair share of women that enjoyed play-rape. Albel had his safety word, and it was only real rape when a person said 'no', right?

Said grin evolved in to a full-blown smile at the sound of his leather-cased palm smacking on to uninterrupted opal flesh. There was more force behind the spread of his hand than any punch he had landed in to the other's proud glass jaw. The might of the clap bounded down the narrow streetway, yearning to spread the tale of the captain's humiliation to any ears it could reach.

The only praise that came echoing back was the flap of wings from a flock of birds that had been enjoying the fading daylight in a tree nearby.

Bah. Cliff didn't need their approval or comfort anyway.

He had all the satisfaction he needed, observing the way skin instantly began to pour color in to the template his hand left behind. Feeling every taut sinew in the captain's belly, and seeing every coil in milky back flux and tremble in the strain of not crying out.

And knowing there was going to be no denying in the captain's mind this had indeed taken place. If he needed a reminder, there was a print covering the entire right half of his ass.

...Damn. It couldn't hurt that much could it? The figure stretched over his legs liquified, weighted breath hastily falling out of him and replaced by a desperate flow of pants.

...Maybe it could.

Cliff sometimes forgot a Klausian spanking wasn't something every girlish ass was familiar with. Some asses were just begging to get familiar with it.

One swat was enough to reduce a full-grown man to tears when it was done right.

"Heh." Wasn't he just one goofy goose. A sheepish grin swept the blond's features and a sweatdrop leaked down his cheek.

"Guess I overdid it."


End file.
